Because each time I saw him, I did my best to avoid that topic. He wanted to tell me how to fix what I'd done, and I'd already realized it couldn't be fixed. I'd lost the girl. I needed to let her go, figure myself out, and move on. So what if my version of moving on meant staying friends with her?
To me, that was part of fixing my shit. Women didn't have to be my entertainment. Neither the mine part, nor the entertaining part. The irony of this mess was how it had been Renato's girlfriend who'd made me realize that. But today, my concerns had nothing to do with a woman.
"No," I groaned. "I wanted to talk to her about me getting fined." I swore this man's mind was stuck on women.
Granted, he had a good reason. He'd taken a few weeks off to set up his girlfriend before their baby came. Mostly, he'd explained, it was to convince his mother their relationship was real, he was excited about the baby, and Hannah wasn't using him.
She wasn't. In truth, Hannah had been ready to walk out of this man's life. Never before had anyone offered to help her out. She was the kind of woman who wasn't scared of doing things on her own, and Renato had been scared shitless he was going to lose her. Instead, he'd gotten the family of his dreams, or would in a few more weeks, just as soon as the baby was born.
But strong women weren't easy. Shit, I was figuring that out with Cody. I was also starting to realize I didn't want easy. I was bored of placid. All my life, I'd been taught to expect women to fawn over me, take care of me, and let me take the lead. Cody? She had her own plans, and there wasn't a damned thing that was going to stop her.
And she deserved this as much as anyone else here.
So I was going to get the fuck out of her way. I'd do my best to lift her up, help her out, and maybe offer a little muscle when she needed it. Not because I didn't think she could do it herself, but because I respected her enough to fight at her side. But this? Yeah, it might be the one fight she couldn't win, since all signs pointed to the PBR - or at least someone higher up in the organization - being willing to do everything they could to chase her off.
"Listen," I told Renato, trying to make him see why I was so annoyed, "Mr. Sousa asked me about the fight. I made it clear we're all playing it safe because of his bullfighters, and that they're shit. He said I was getting a fine, but it'd only be for conduct unbecoming in the PBR."
"Ten grand," Renato said, nodding to show he was keeping up.
"I punched the fuck out of Austin - a few times. It was on the big screen," I hissed. "I should've been suspended. Instead, I got a stupidly low fine? Not even the fifteen thousand for fighting. That's what we usually get, and it wouldn't shock me at all if Austin gets nothing."
So Renato leaned back and looked over at the side. "Jake! You know if Austin got fined?"
"Shit," Jake drawled. "Probably. Why?"
"But do you know?" Renato asked.
"No," Jake admitted, yet the conversation in the bar was getting softer, like everyone else was listening. "Why?"
"Ty got ten grand."
"You good, Ty?" Wes asked.
I lifted a hand, holding him off. "I got it. But fighting's fifteen thousand. Someone wanna explain that to me?"
"Damn it!" Jake snarled, hurling his beer to the side.
It slammed into the wall and shattered, leaving a foaming, glassy mess behind. His reaction seemed to come out of nowhere. Immediately, the place paused. Every bull rider, half the girls, and the guys hoping to rub shoulders with us all turned to look, but Jake didn't seem to notice. The man was staring blankly at his table, clearly thinking much too hard.
"What the fuck?" I asked, mostly because I had no damned clue why he'd react like that.
I saw his jaw clench hard enough to make the muscle along the side jump. "You're not suspended?"
"Nope."
"What's going on, Jake?" Jackson Cloutier asked from a few tables over.
And now the entire bar was quiet. Not silent, because there was still some softer music playing and the clink of glasses at the bar could be heard. A few women were muttering softly over by the bathrooms, but the rest of us? We were all turned to face Jake. He had our complete attention.
Jake shoved a hand across his mouth, then looked from table to table, suddenly aware how many people were focused on him.
"Who knows what that fight was about?" he asked before pointing to me. "Not you two."
"Austin's a dick," Kaleb offered.
"Anyone else?" Jake asked.
Wes jerked his chin at Jake. "Something about the bullfighters. I caught that much."
